My father went about his business quietly. He walked softly, and he didn't carry a stick at all. What he had was the pen. As a newspaper columnist he could wield it any way he saw fit. He could have torn down. But he chose to build. He told the stories of people in this community. He never injected himself. He'd say, over and over in a myriad of different ways, as he was telling a myriad of different stories...."if you're out there, can you help?"
Beautiful story Tom! I knew Bobby Walsh from Marywood, I had many classes with him and had helped him when he needed it in the Computer Labs when I worked there between classes. He was the sweetest, and his parents were so kind; like your Dad. You left me all warm and fuzzy, again. Merry Christmas to you and your family!!
Beautiful story Tom! I knew Bobby Walsh from Marywood, I had many classes with him and had helped him when he needed it in the Computer Labs when I worked there between classes. He was the sweetest, and his parents were so kind; like your Dad. You left me all warm and fuzzy, again. Merry Christmas to you and your family!!